that girl allison

I'm Allison. I see a ton of theatre. I'm a fan of Green Day, Ted Leo & the Pharmacists, Weezer, Oasis, Adam Rapp, Emily Giffin, and Shakespeare. I run sometimes, and do yoga always.

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thatgirlallison08 at gmail dot com

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Posts tagged "new york city"

Today in Things I Am Over we will discuss dating apps. Which I am over. Completely. Not that I ever had high hopes for them to begin with but with such low expectations, you’d think I’d have fun with at least one of them, right? They are all basically the same app, except Hinge pulls people who you have friends in common with on Facebook, so it’s not, like, totally sketchy. Just sort of, very sketchy.

Tinder is a joke, which is why I joined. The gross photos that I come across always make me laugh (and occasionally cringe). I met one guy for a drink once and he was very nice. He was a southern boy who ended up being in a very indie band that I like. He was flakey though. Like, we-couldn’t-seem-to-make-plans-to-get-together-in-the-six-weeks-since-our-first-date-flakey. Yet he was still texting me. I gave up on him. I think he was just sort of unknowingly stupid. Very sweet, but stupid.

Then there’s Hinge. This is a joke too but I’d heard it was better than Tinder, and I was like, ‘Why not!’ so I joined. Spoiler alert: It’s not better than Tinder. You get 15 matches a day and you can go through and say if you like anyone (ie. do I think this person is attractive?). I’ve matched with a bunch of guys but I haven’t actually met any of them in person. Why? I literally know nothing about the person from their profile. So, essentially, why would I want to meet them? Because they’re attractive? Not good enough. (For me, at least.) I was supposed to meet a guy for coffee today but I decided I was just that disinterested. I’m sure he was a nice person, but luckily I caught him via text before he got on the train from Park Slope to come to the UWS. 

Then there’s Coffee Meet Bagel. This is a snooze. You get one match a day and if you both say you like each other, you get a text and you commence speaking and actually getting to know each other - as well as you can via text. I’ve met met one or two guys off this app. It’s OK, but I’m bored it at this point.

The problem with these apps? They’re pretty shallow. You’re going solely (for the most part) off whether or not you think the other person is attractive. For me, this is just not enough. You’re good looking? Well, congratulations on your genetics. Attraction for me comes from whether or not the other person is smart, witty, sardonic, etc. Chemistry, I guess. 

Maybe part of the problem is that I don’t really feel like making the effort to date anyone right now. Yes, besides the fact that these apps are shitty, there is that fact too. I’ll be deleting these apps and I’ll stick to going out in the real world and see who is fed up them too. 

/rant over

Last Wednesday, August 20th, I went to the Rubin Museum in Chelsea for the screening of the film short On Meditation, featuring the woman who I refer to as my guru, Gabrielle Bernstein. After the filming, she had a conversation with contemplative psychotherapist Joe Loizzo, who founded the Nalanda Institute. 

I snagged a front row seat somehow and settled in. We ran through her meditation that she calls the “ego eradicator” and thus began my 40 day regiment of it again. They spoke about the science behind meditation and how they now have proof of how meditation affects the brain, so it’s not just hippie bullshit (my words) anymore.

Afterward she signed books and when I asked her for advice on how to deal with super negative friends, she said, “Be the light." I said OK, and I’m trying. She also said not to talk about it with them, which I think is a fantastic idea. 

Another night of mindfulness in the books. 

“The true New Yorker secretly believes that people living anywhere else have to be, in some sense, kidding.” - John Updike

Today marks exactly ten years since I first moved to New York City. I was a freshmen and moved into a gross but amazing four-bedroom dorm room with seven other girls on the corner of 16th street and Union Square West. It was a moment that I’d been waiting for for at least eight years. That day had finally come and I was oh-so-happy. Right as my parents were saying goodbye, a swat team descended upon Union Square because of a bomb threat that had been called in because of the Republican National Convention, which happened to be that weekend too. Thus began my residency in New York City.

Monthly Metrocards were $65 (!) at that time and one trip was $1.50. Williamsburg was just starting to kind of become East Village “Light” and filling with hipsters. Pinkberry wasn’t yet known, nor had it infiltrated St. Marks Place. You could still find a yoga class for $10. Rush tickets for actual broadway shows were $20 (not $45!).  Greenpoint was stilled filled with only Polish people and Astoria was just sort of on the rise as an acceptable place to live outside Manhattan. George W. Bush was about to be elected for a second time by a truly idiotic nation and American Idiot was soon to be released. I would totally miss seeing Green Day a block away at Irving Plaza.

Most people go to college to get an education and while that was on my list to, my main goal after high school was “move to New York City,” so that’s why I only applied to 5 schools and they were all in New York.

I don’t want to get too sentimental, so I’ll just say this: Being a New Yorker is one of the best things in the world (in my opinion). It was my dream and I am living the dream. Today I’ll be able to celebrate it drinking cocktails on a booze cruise for work around this island in two rivers. 

If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. 

(Above is a photo from my scrapbook from freshmen year - those are three of my seven roommates.)

Dear Greyhound Bus Co:

I spent 21 minutes on hold with your customer service line tonight before getting disconnected. Never once did I speak with an actual live human being. That’s some customer service policy you have going there!

On my bus back to New York City from Boston last night, the driver had very little idea how to drive a bus. He had no idea how to maneuver it. It was unsafe, to say the least. He was using a GPS system the whole time but when he crossed from the Bronx over into Manhattan, he stopped and asked a cop how to get to Port Authority. Then a few blocks later, he stopped the bus and asked us, the passengers. 

Now this is one of the few instances where saying “YOU HAVE ONE JOB” actually applies. The bus driver had one job, literally. It was to get us to Port Authority. After we, the paying customers, told him how to get to our destination, he proceeded to drive down Broadway at 5 miles an hour, getting about 2 blocks between each light change. 

Between a tiny bit of traffic, his absolutely cluelessness regarding New York City, and his incompetence in driving a bus all together, we arrived at Port Authority just before 8:30pm. 

Our bus was due into Port Authority at 6:30pm.

He was 50% late. If that’s acceptable to you, you need to close up shop. 

I was offered a $20 credit today. This is unacceptable as I will not be taking your buses ever again. Given that your bus was 50% late, I would like at least 50% of my money back - in American US currency. 

The bus number was 86151. I don’t know who the driver was and quite frankly, I don’t care, because he was ill equipped to be driving a bus and in New York City. 

The San Francisco Giants were in town this weekend (through tomorrow afternoon!) playing the Mets so that meant I spent some time down at Finnerty’s in the East Village. 

Kristen obliged my request on Friday after we had coffee (Ground Central) and dinner (Dig Inn) and we went down to watch the game and watch some frat boys get thrown out after trying to start a “Giants suck! Giants suck!" chant. They won. Woot! 

On Saturday I went to the game with my family at Citifield and they lost - I was very sad. 

And today, Sunday, I put on my last clean orange shirt and made my way back to Finnerty’s to watch the game. They massacred the Mets, 8-0. It almost made up for last night’s loss. 

Next to me were sitting two Mets fans. I believe my first question to them was you couldn’t find a Mets bar to watch the game in? and they said they just wanted to watch the game somewhere where people would care about what was going on because there really are no “Mets bars” in the city. I kept telling them in the bottom of the 9th, “There’s still a chance that they can really even this thing up!” And despite my giving them a hard time, the one sitting closest to me asked for my number (and I MISTAKENLY gave him my mother’s number - it’s one digit different. OMG I was mortified. He’s laughed it off and we’re getting a drink later this week. Keeper?). 

One last game tomorrow. Go Giants!

Sometimes awesome stuff happens.

Like when my friend texted me at 6pm last night and asked if I was free because he had an extra ticket in one of the suites at Yankee Stadium. He knows I am repulsed by the Yankees beyond words, and they’re weren’t playing a team I’d actually root for instead (Texas Rangers). But once he says there’s free food involved and air conditioning, I turned my computer off and peaced out of the office. 

Side note: I stopped at home first to change into my team’s shirt (San Francisco Giants - I don’t care if they weren’t play in the stadium, they were playing somewhere that night!) and then headed up. I took a B uptown to my apartment but 15 minutes later, there were no more B trains to be found. This has happened to me more than once. So I took the C to 145th and then cabbed it over to the stadium (I directed the driver via Apple Maps on my phone - seriously, what cab driver in Manhattan doesn’t know how to get to Yankee Stadium??). 

The Yankees were up, then the Rangers were up and stayed up. I gorged on salad, roasted brussel sprouts, shrimp, brocoli rabe, and a couple slices of steak, with chocolate mousse for dessert. 

We were also watching the scores that were on the board from the other games being played that night and man, Boston massacred Toronto (14-1) and the Giants beat (I forget who) 7-4. 

My friend took the above photo right after Derek Jeter was struck out (after my friend emphasized how super-duper-awesomesauce he was). I also got to catch up with my friend, who I don’t see nearly as often as we’d both like. 

My team won, the Red Sox won, the Yankees lost, and I ate on the Yankees’ dime. It was a good night.

So the Labyrinth Theater’s production of The Muscles in Our Toes, by Stephen Belberclosed on Saturday night, but I wanted to write about it regardless. Because it was really ridiculous (in a good way).

The Muscles in Our Toes was a ridiculous comedy about a bunch of high school friends coming together for their 25 year reunion. When one of their beloved classmates has supposedly been kidnapped in Africa and nothing is being done to get him back, this group of old friends devises a plan to wake the government up themselves.

Does it sound ridiculous? Well it was. It definitely was. Was it entertaining? Oh yes, it was that too.

Bill Dawes as Les lead the cast fearlessly. Amir Arison was hilarious and probably my favorite of them all. Rounding out the small ensemble cast was Samuel Ray Gates, Matthew Maher, Jeanine Serralles, and Mather Zickel. 

They were all great, but the plot has the ridiculous confidence that most American’s have - which is too much. 

I plan buying this t-shirt at some point. Because it’s true. It’s really, really true. I went for a run (a quick-ish 2.something miles) this morning because I didn’t think I’d have a chance to go to a yoga class. I also stopped running what feels like forever ago (but was probably only a month ago), because I got bored, and I also hated distance running. 
The 2.something miles were fine. I finished them in under 20 minutes. But I was sweaty after (duh) and sore. And I decided that running, does indeed, suck. Running is good for your heart and your metabolism and that’s about it. I know people run marathons and half-marathons to prove to themselves that they can do it. That’s fine. But really, there are so many other activities that are good for your whole body and probably don’t destroy your knees.
Also: The first man in Greece who ran 26 miles died right after. I think that says something. Mainly: Humans are not made to run 26 miles at a time.
I also find running for extended periods of time to be incredibly boring. Doing the same thing for an hour just to get your heart rate up or prove something to your own ego? Meh. 
Give me yoga any day. At least it’s good for my entire body (and mind) and it won’t destroy my knees. I’ll continue to run mainly to burn calories, but I won’t attempt crazy distances because like the t-shirt says, running sucks. 
But hey, to each their own. If you enjoy running, go for it. 

I plan buying this t-shirt at some point. Because it’s true. It’s really, really true. I went for a run (a quick-ish 2.something miles) this morning because I didn’t think I’d have a chance to go to a yoga class. I also stopped running what feels like forever ago (but was probably only a month ago), because I got bored, and I also hated distance running. 

The 2.something miles were fine. I finished them in under 20 minutes. But I was sweaty after (duh) and sore. And I decided that running, does indeed, suck. Running is good for your heart and your metabolism and that’s about it. I know people run marathons and half-marathons to prove to themselves that they can do it. That’s fine. But really, there are so many other activities that are good for your whole body and probably don’t destroy your knees.

Also: The first man in Greece who ran 26 miles died right after. I think that says something. Mainly: Humans are not made to run 26 miles at a time.

I also find running for extended periods of time to be incredibly boring. Doing the same thing for an hour just to get your heart rate up or prove something to your own ego? Meh. 

Give me yoga any day. At least it’s good for my entire body (and mind) and it won’t destroy my knees. I’ll continue to run mainly to burn calories, but I won’t attempt crazy distances because like the t-shirt says, running sucks

But hey, to each their own. If you enjoy running, go for it. 

My new thing is to chat with guys very seldom before I meet them. Otherwise you develop this ridiculous person that you think they are based on their texts and it’s usually incredibly off.

So, I went on a date last night with a guy who, online, in the brief time I’d chatted with him, seemed nice enough. He was cute - in a quirky way. We met at Ninth Ward downtown. It looked like a cool place and they had happy hour.

He was nice. He was really nice. And he was kind of cute in person. Still quirky. But there were way too many pauses in our conversation. I didn’t know what to say to him, and even worse, I didn’t care. I just wanted to finish my beer and go home. And eat. I was really hungry and I didn’t want to order food there and have to spend more time with this person who I’d never see again. 

We decided we’d split the very minimal check (thank you, happy hour!) and when his debit card was declined twice, I picked up the tab. I was kind of pissed he didn’t even offer to swing by an ATM.

This is why I’ve never been on a date where I haven’t offered to pay my half. I can’t imagine how annoying it is to always pay for dates, even when they’re not going well. Sometimes the guys decline my offer, but sometimes they accept. 

Lesson here is: Ladies, it’s the 20th century. Don’t expect your date to pay for your alcohol or food. 

Awkward side note: Just noticed that this dude checked out my profile again at 2am last night. Oy vey. 

Am I the only one that has been out on first dates where the guy has at least 4 drinks? I can’t be the only one. I think New York is swimming with guys who have drinking problems simply because we don’t have to worry about driving. Anyways, I went on a date today with a guy who does everything in his power not to go anywhere for drinks or food on first dates. He’s not in AA, but he just likes to lift the alcohol blinders off his dates. Which I can totally understand and appreciate. 

We met in Central Park, in Strawberry Fields, with our DSLRs in hand, ready to take pictures and wander the paths. He was really nice. But slightly odd. We never took a single picture, but we wandered the paths for a couple of hours and talked. When I asked him how his experience dating in New York has been, he replied, “I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought.” As though, why would you ever think about that instead of just going on with your day? 

It was an odd experience. At one point he said, “Can I be honest with you for a second? You seem defensive,” which I definitely was because I had no idea what to make of this guy. I wasn’t really expecting anything, but he was unlike any guy I’ve met recently.

That said: I don’t really think he was a spark so I most likely will not be seeing him again.

That said, part deux: I’d like to try this Dating Sans the Alcohol Blinders thing again soon.